


breakfast of champions

by singingintime (laulan)



Series: Stars and Planets 'Verse [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Earth, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Music, Gen, QWOP - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-29
Updated: 2009-08-29
Packaged: 2019-06-26 18:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15668562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laulan/pseuds/singingintime
Summary: Jim's losing spectacularly atQWOPfor about the fifty millionth time when Bones comes back in with a granola bar and a scowl.





	breakfast of champions

**Author's Note:**

> Original note: I SWEAR the follow-ups to No-Win Scenario are coming soon. But work is CONSUMING my life right now, so they're taking much longer than I thought they would, 'cause I don't have the time or energy to do them justice. *long sigh*
> 
> So this isn't what anybody's been waiting for. This is what I had the energy to write--about 600 words of Bones + Jim gen set in the _Symphony for Stars and Planets_ 'verse, a little bit before _Symphony_ starts. (Also vague Kirk/Spock preslash?) Hope someone is entertained, at least! :D

Jim's losing spectacularly at [QWOP](http://www.foddy.net/Athletics.html) for about the fifty millionth time when Bones comes back in with a granola bar and a scowl.

"Why is it," he demands, slamming their door, "that no matter where you go, dorm food always tastes like shit?" He rips the wrapper off his granola bar--viciously, if the plastic-scrunching noises Jim can hear are any indication. "I'm tellin' you, they had _nothin'_ good. The pancakes looked about as edible as paper plates glued together."

"Did they have bacon?" Jim asks, frantically mashing at his keyboard and--dammit. Make it fifty million and one times he's lost.

"If by 'bacon,'" Bones says, "you mean 'limp strip of somethin' that may or may not have been the flesh of a pig at some distant point in time, drenched in rancid lard and slapped in the microwave for--'"

"Mm, delicious," Jim says, grinning at the outraged sound Bones makes. He flicks the keyboard away and turns in his chair, stretching until he feels his spine pop. "I looove bacon."

"Fuck you," grumbles Bones absently. He's sitting on the bed, squinting at a pack of paper like it insulted his mom. "It doesn't matter to you if somethin's good or shitty. You'll eat just about anything if it's on a plate, even if it's a travesty to the name of good cooking."

Jim spins around in the chair a little, pretending to think about it. "Mm, true," he concedes. He rolls himself over to Bones's bed. "Whatcha lookin' at?"  
  
Bones snorts, flipping a page. "Packet everybody got at breakfast. Which, you know, you woulda _gotten_ had you been there on time."

"'Introductory breakfast, eight-thirty to ten-thirty a.m.,'" Jim quotes chirpily. "I've still got an hour'n a half to make it. Dude, did you skip coffee this morning? You're testier than usual."

"It was shitty coffee, okay?" Bones says, grimacing. "Tasted like lead. I miss our damn coffee-maker."  
  
Jim laughs and knocks his shoulder against Bones's. "So finish your granola bar and we'll go on a coffee run, Mr. Scowlyface."  
  
Bones makes some other mumbly angry noise, and Jim grins again, forcing the granola bar up at Bones's face and stealing his breakfast packet to amuse himself.  
  
"Oh, please, help yourself. Not like I was readin' that or or anything," Bones sighs.  
  
"Resistance is futile," Jim deadpans, biting back a grin when Bones laughs before he can catch himself. He flips through the packet idly while Bones eats--yeah, pretty standard stuff. Welcome letter from Pike, rough schedule of the next couple of months--oh, here we go, list of section leaders, that might be useful, since Jim'll be leading the trumpets. He skims through it, noting the couple of names he recognizes, then frowns.  
  
"Dude, how d'you think you're supposed to pronounce this one, anyway?" he asks, stabbing a finger at the long collection of letters in question. "There's apostrophes."  
  
"Beats me," Bones says with a shrug, standing to throw his granola bar wrapper at the wastebasket. He pumps a triumphant fist in the air when it swishes in. "D'you see that? I shoulda gone for basketball."  
  
Jim almost dies laughing, picturing Bones in those totally ridiculous basketball shorts from the 70s. "Sure got the chickenlegs for it," he says when he can breathe.  
  
"Ah, screw you," says Bones, half-scowling, half-grinning as he hauls Jim up by his collar. "C'mon, some asshole promised me a coffee run."  
  
"All right, all right. Coffee it is," Jim declares. And then back to the breakfast room for bacon--but Bones doesn't need to know that yet, he thinks with a grin.

-  
  
(The long name sticks unexpectedly in his head, though, a note that won't fade. S'chn T'gai Spock. What kind of person goes with an impressive and complex name like that? Jim tries to wrap his tongue around it a couple times, but it's not a language he knows, and without IPA he's got no real hope at guessing the pronunciation.  
  
S'chn T'gai Spock... well, it's not like there are ten million people here. He'll probably meet this guy soon enough, even before their first practice.

He sort of weirdly hopes so, at least.)  


**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimer: This story is an old work, so there are definitely parts of it that make me wince and that I would disagree with now. However, I'm not going to go back and edit it further than I already have because this is meant to be a record of the story I wrote at the time more than anything else. I've tried to fix the most egregiously problematic bits in this one, but I believe some still remain, and if something in it seems harmful, feel free to let me know and I'll see what I can do to address it. <3


End file.
